FLASHBACK
Western Burma Jungle
21 October, 1985, 0945 hours
The jungle had been relatively silent for nearly twenty minutes. Karl waited beneath the feet of Vulture Two while Vulture Prime and Vulture Four stalked closer to the package being carried in by Team Cobra. The animals of the wild rainforest had settled back down after the noise of the landing subsided. Creatures of all kinds chattered softly back and forth to each other through the treetops. Karl imagined them discussing what these giant creatures were doing on the ground.
A bright-colored bird drifted between the branches high above Karl’s position. Accompanying the chatter of monkeys, a continuous buzz of insects reverberated all around him. Occasionally, a loud squawk would burst from the lungs of some large bird that, judging by the reaction of the other creatures, must have been the disciplinary matron of the jungle. When she squawked, creatures of every species would momentarily quiet down. After a few moments of appeasement, the noise gradually built back up to an even louder cacophony of sound.
The mound above the pilot was so quiet that he began to wonder if Vulture Two was even there still. The sniper’s position was carefully concealed and he lay so completely motionless that he was practically invisible against the jungle floor.
Karl, sweat dripping off the ends of his eyebrows, looked up at the mound. He could just make out a less than one-inch square of the edge of the tread of one of the sniper’s boots. He shifted his weight and was about to reach up and tap Two’s foot to ask if anything was happening when the hair stood on the back of his neck. He got the intense feeling that someone was nearby, another human in addition to the one perched in the deadly hide just above him. A soft rustle sounded in the undergrowth a few meters beyond the front of Vulture Two’s mound. Karl’s heart leaped into his throat. He raised his pistol towards the source of the noise. His pulse quickened and he became acutely aware of the sound of his own breathing. Maybe it was just an animal, he told himself. If it were something dangerous, surely the sniper on the mound would have done something about it by now.
Karl’s mind raced. A surge of power exploded in his muscles as adrenaline pumped through his veins like raw energy. He scanned the ground with his eyes, intently searching for any movement, but afraid to move his own body. A peculiar metallic taste formed in his mouth as blood rushed into every capillary of his tongue and cheeks. The creatures of the forest had sensed something as well. All of their chatter stopped. Birds stopped floating by. Monkeys silenced their voices as if giving a foreboding alarm in their lack of movement. The jungle fell into total silence. Bad things were coming.
There was a rustle three meters away followed by the barely audible sound of Vulture Two’s voice, “I see you, all clear within my line of sight.”
Vulture Prime rose phantom-like out of the undergrowth just eight feet from where Karl leaned. He walked over to the pilot, smiling beneath the thick dark camouflage grease paint that covered his face, and patted him on the shoulder. Karl’s pistol was still pointed at him.
“Put your weapon down, Eagle One. I’m one of the good guys. Here is your package.”
He stretched out his hand, which held a small bundle of neatly wrapped green cloth tied with a braided piece of rough, fibrous rope. The bundle was the size of a small Nerf football, about eight inches long and ten inches in diameter.
“Get moving. The Mujahideen are closing in. Vulture Four has already taken out several of them at the back of their line, but they will catch on soon. You need to get your plane out of here ASAP. Good luck, Devil Dog.”
Vulture Prime turned to head back into the jungle. As Karl started to move towards the edge of the tree line and his parked jet, he heard, or rather felt, a puff of compression in the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye Karl saw the pile of brush that was Vulture Two jerk slightly. Then he heard a man cry out in a gurgling scream as a high-powered rifle round blew his chest open. Vulture Prime dropped to a knee near the mound and muttered something into his throat mike. Another hard puff came from the mound then the jungle erupted in an explosion of gunfire and shouts about a hundred meters from the clearing. Distant voices rose from the forest in multi-syllabic, throaty Arabic.
Vulture Prime turned to Karl and shouted, “Go! Get out of here now!”
Karl took off out of the tree line at a full sprint. He ran up the incline from the jungle to the pavement of the ancient courtyard and made a direct line for his jet. Before he got halfway to the plane, the ground at his feet erupted in spurts of earth and stone as bullets ripped a line across his path.
The sound of hot metal stung past his ears like molten lead bumblebees. He turned and dove into the defilade offered by the incline he had just run up. He paused, then leaped to his feet and dashed back to the tree line for better cover. Several men rushed out of the woods from behind his plane. One of the Mujahideen took a few steps into the courtyard, rifle raised. A large hole exploded in the middle of his chest, sending a fountain of blood in an arc as something lifted him bodily off the ground and tossed him back into the trees.
Three other Mujahideen took his place. They rushed at Karl, but within only a few steps two more went down in similar fashion. Karl raised his pistol with both hands and reflexively pointed it at the last man. Without thinking he fired twice. The first bullet struck dead on at center mass. The man stopped mid-step, and the second shot created a round red spot squarely in the center of the man’s forehead. The Mujahideen soldier wavered on his feet. A mindless look grew on the man’s face as his eyes glazed over. He dropped his rifle and tumbled forward in a heap to the stone pavement of the monastery courtyard. Blood poured from the wounds. It formed a dark pool on the ground. The back of the man’s head lay to the side like a flap of bone and flesh. His skull had been split apart by the large .45- caliber slug. Bloody gray chunks of brain fell to the ground in slow motion around the body. Steam rose from the gaping wound and swirled hypnotically into the misty morning air. Karl stared in shock for a moment as the immensity of what he had just done sunk in. He had just killed a man. He had just committed the most irrevocable act possible. He had ended the life of another human being.
It wasn’t clean. It was nothing like the movies. Nothing like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. It was messy. Bits of brain and bone were splattered on the vegetation and stone slabs behind and beside the man. Matted tufts of blood-crusted hair lay in chunks where they’d fallen next to his head. The Mujahideen’s body twitched convulsively for several seconds as death shut down the nervous and cardiovascular systems. Karl felt like he was going to puke.
The shock at the scene before him ended abruptly when he heard a scream to his left. Karl turned in time to see five shapes rush out of the forest in his direction. He raised his pistol and fired aimed shots that were accompanied by silenced puffs from the weapons of Vulture Prime and Two. All five men went down hard on the stone pavement. Inertia carried them forward in a skidding tangle along the ground before their bodies came to a stop in a mangled heap. The dying men’s limbs were skewed at odd angles as they breathed their last taste of air.
“Jesus! How many are there?”
“More than that, I’m sure!” shouted Vulture Prime. “Try for the jet again! We’ll cover y—”
Karl was on his feet and ready to run when Vulture Prime’s words were suddenly cut short. Karl turned towards the team leader. Vulture Prime stared in shock at his own chest. A massive wet bloodstain darkened the small visible area of his camouflage jacket. Red fluid dripped off the leaves and branches woven into the mesh of his ghillie suit.
Vulture Prime blinked rapidly, as if surprised by the appearance of the wound on his body. Then he looked up and pointed to a spot in the forest. Vulture Two spun in that direction and fired a puff from his rifle at someone across the courtyard. A man grunted in the distance as the shot impacted in his body.
Vulture Prime wavered, then dropped to his knees. He tried to say something, but his lungs and bronchial tubes were shattered. The man’s lips moved. Nothing, except for a froth of blood, came out of his mouth. His eyes rolled heavenward in a final prayer and he collapsed onto his side. Vulture Prime’s body landed hard on the ground. A bubbling rush of air gurgled out the hole in his chest and he died with his eyes wide open, staring into the courtyard.
“Eagle One, drop!”
Vulture Two fired a shot past the pilot’s head, sending another Mujahideen soldier skidding into the ground. Karl scrambled back into the cover of the forest. Vulture Two climbed down from his hide and removed the radio set from Vulture Prime’s head and neck. He passed it up to Karl.
“Put this on, just like mine.” Vulture Two pointed to his setup. The black band around his neck held a small box set just above his Adam’s apple and a wire that ran up to a strap around his head, which held a small rubbery plug speaker in each of his ear canals.
Karl put it on as he was shown and was surprised to discover that the earplugs filtered out the high decibel explosions of rifle fire, but still enabled the user to hear conversation and even whispers that were around him. He immediately heard voices talking in low hushed tones through the speakers.
“Vulture Two, this is Four. I’ve taken out six of the little buggers already, and there are more coming from the northeast.”
“Two, this is Five. I can see movement in the forest to your northwest. It looks like there might be another half-dozen Mujahideen headed your way. I am going to keep them pinned down if I can.”
“Two, this is Three. No Mujahideen here, but there may be something worse. Someone is moving out there, but I can’t see him. I think we have some professional company on the way, probably Spetsnaz. Be advised they are on the far northwest of you and moving rapidly.”
“Roger that, Three. Cobra, sit rep.”
“Two, this is Cobra Prime. Cobra Two and Five are down. Three is hit but functional. Four and myself still whole. Recommend survivors pull away from clearing to engage opposing forces and let Eagle One get airborne as soon as possible. Forces moving in will negate future chances if he doesn’t get out of here now.”
“Copy that, Cobra Prime.”
A long hissing whoosh followed by a sudden loud explosion burst to the north of their position.
“What was that?” called Vulture Two. “Five, that was your area, what was that?”
Five didn’t respond.
“Three, can you see anything?”
“Two, this is Three. It was an RPG. I think they got Five. There is a...huhn!”
Vulture Three’s radio went dead.
“Cobra Prime, this is Vulture Two. All remaining personnel pull into the LZ to provide cover to Eagle One and the package. Engage all opposing forces at will, draw their fire away from the Harrier.”
“Copy. Cobra Team en route to LZ. Cobra Prime out.”
“Roger that. Four out.”
“Get ready, Eagle One. Looks like your pucker factor just went up exponentially.”
The gunfire stopped again just as suddenly as it had started. Numbing silence fell on the stone courtyard and surrounding jungle. Karl looked around and saw no more movement in the opening or along the edge of the tree line. It was quiet all around his plane.
“It looks pretty quiet. Do you think we got them all?” Karl asked.
“Not a chance; they’re regrouping,” replied Vulture Two.
“I can get this thing airborne in less than three minutes if you guys can keep them busy.”
“We probably don’t have that much time, but we’ll give it a shot. They are closing in fast and there are more than we realized. Get moving, Eagle. It was nice to meet you. Don’t forget, you owe me a beer.”
Karl looked nervously into the clearing. He tensed his body for the sprint up the short incline to the pavement where his jet sat parked and waiting ten meters away. Sweat dripped from his nose and splashed on the back of the hand that pressed into his knee. He took two deep breaths, whispered a prayer, and bolted into a hard run towards his Harrier.
Two steps into the clearing, the forest erupted again in an ear-splitting cacophony of gunfire that sent him diving into the ground, cuddling the package like a football. The slight rise in the ground provided him with a modest, very modest, bit of cover against the incoming fire. He pressed his body into the ground, wishing the earth itself could absorb him. He wanted to crawl beneath the rocks and get to some safe place where the bullets couldn’t find him. The Mujahideen seemed to be everywhere.
The pandemonium of gunfire ceased for a moment. Another numb quiet settled, but was interrupted by a series of puffs from the silenced weapons of the remnants of Teams Cobra and Vulture. Several men screamed in death around the edge of the monastery courtyard. Karl got up to try again for his jet.
He leaped to his feet and surged forward. He suddenly felt like a three-hundred-pound NFL defensive lineman in full sprint hit him. Karl’s body absorbed the full blow. His mind told him that he was flying sideways through the air, but he couldn’t feel anything. He slammed into the pavement. The air rushed out of his lungs in a painful grunt. Dazed and only partially conscious, Karl was unable to get his arms and legs to move. He lay still on the ground, groggy, eyes open, seeing everything around him but unable to react. Whatever had happened had deafened him as well. Was he dead?
Karl no longer held the package. The little green Nerf-football-sized blanketed bundle lay alone and out of his paralyzed reach several meters away. Everything around him had a dull red tint. His eyes felt puffy.
Several figures crossed the pavement. They swiftly ran towards the bundle on the ground, weapons blazing into the trees behind him. One of them picked up the package and turned towards the other side of the courtyard. Another trembled violently as several rounds impacted his chest, sending him to the stone, his rifle clattering to the pavement just in front of the pilot’s face.
The one with the package ran back to the wood line. He stumbled and dropped to his knees. Several dark spots erupted on his back. He tossed the package forward, closer to the tree line. Then his head exploded. The stump of his neck spouted a stream of blood skyward as his body toppled forward, collapsing on his chest.
Karl heard a deep thump, steady and rhythmic like the beating of jungle drums. His heart. Blood rushed up his neck and past his ears. His hearing returned like someone slowly turning a volume knob. A cool rush of breath filled his lungs. It expanded against his chest wall as life again started to flow into him, along with relief at the knowledge that he was not dead. The red hues of the scene around him gave way to more colors as his full vision returned.
A man leaped out from the tree line and snatched up the green bundle, tossing it back to his companions in the trees moments before several high-powered rifle rounds tore his body to pieces. His right arm flew into the air as his shoulder joint was struck by several more bullets. He collapsed in a twitching heap on the ground near the headless Mujahideen soldier.
Karl’s hearing expanded again and then erupted into proper operation. His body convulsed in surprise as the full volume of the battle around him exploded against his ears. Still with only partial movement in his limbs, he managed to roll himself backwards to the incline he had run up. His weakened body tumbled down the slope to the relative safety of the tree line where Vulture Two was still positioned, firing at everything that moved on the opposite side of the pavement.
Voices chattered in his ears, calling out targets and giving situation reports.
“Vulture Two, this is Cobra Prime, our ammunition is nearly expended. Four and me are all that is left. Three is down.”
“Cobra Prime, we are it then. Vulture Four is down as well. Eagle One got hit but is still mobile. Package is out of our hands. The Mujahideen got the package. Move to Red Fortress. Repeat, move to Red Fortress.”